


The Lamplight has always guided them

by Crescent31



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Also first time writing fics and my mother language isnt english so it can be off from time to time, Deacon recruits Maccready, I just love these meme bros so much fuck, I need to mash them together, Its gonna be a non coherent mass of ficlets, M/M, Nah dont worry its gonna be good, Rating will change over time probably, Slightly altered universe, Sole died in the vault, Which might turn spicy and naughty later on knowing me, Which was a bad choice, aww yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent31/pseuds/Crescent31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sole Survivor from Vault 111 is dead, so Deacon finds out. Who was actually observing the vault for a while now. He has some other options for recruitment into the almost eradicated and desperate Railroad. And thus he quickly enough ends up with this gun for hire; Maccready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is going to be a collection of ficlets really. The first one established the AU it fits in. All other ones are probably short as well, but heavily dialogue driven

Project ‘Wanderer’ didn’t really go as Deacon had hoped. Or assumed it would go. When Kellog and those Institute goons left Vault 111, and sealed it up again, he knew there was a reason to do so. So he waited, and damn, he’s bad at waiting. Restless as ever he took matters in own hands, just to find out that Vault 111 knows no survivors. (pip boys aren’t that hard to come by really, with at least 4 Vaults in the whole Commonwealth)  
So he had multiple options, to get some good recruits back into the almost non existent Railroad at this point.  
So he had multiple options, to get some good recruits back into the almost non existent Railroad at this point. Almost completely wiped out after the latest Institute attack. Option one was apparently some feisty Irish broad from the Combat Zone- yeah. no. That’s not even an option. The Minuteman neither, Deacon can’t really stand the redneck element of these fellas anyways. He scolded himself for actually considering a mercenary, a god forsaken gun for hire. Someone who only cares for the caps, instead of what the Railroad actually stands for. For what Deacon stands for. It wasn’t him who said its a desperate time for the faction. Or, well he did, Desdemona just said it first.  
“A Mercenary?! Are you out of your goddamn mind Deacon?!” Is what Desdemona said the first moment when Deacon hauled the boy into HQ and gave the backstory. “Wait. The honest to god Railroad?” the mercenary scoffed. “You actually talked me into this… Goody two shoes act of a disaster?” Deacon wondered to himself why he lied to Maccready, instead of Desdemona. He should’ve switched it around. This was bad. And when things are bad Deacon laughs: “Since when do guns for hire complain? I did not order a merc with a mouth did I?” Everyone in HQ seemed to ignore this disaster, trying to reduce any collateral damage. Deacon actually brought a stranger into HQ, the boy now knows where the place is. This isn’t good at all. Desdemona rolled her eyes so hard Deacon could swear he could actually hear it. “Look Deacon, I trust you. I just don’t know what you were thinking with.. this, but he’s your asset. And I better have him not be a nuisance around here.” Fair enough, Deacon thought. He didn’t like being around in HQ anyways.  
~~ 

His gut is never wrong, Deacon thought. Actually covered in guts, laying on the ground, looking up at Maccready who just saved his ass from Synth hate mongers. Maccready sighed, bend down on his knees and jammed a stim up Deacon’s shoulder, making him hiss. “You are really good at this you know? Jamming things down peoples bodies…” Deacon groaned rubbing his shoulder afterwards. Maccready snickered “Was that some kind of bad innuendo? Or are you just a big baby who can’t take the needle from a stim.” Deacon frowned, oh.. wait that could totally be an innuendo, and he didn’t even notice. Maccready pulled Deacon of the ground, swatting dead person remains of him when he stood. “I have no experience with you on the first, and you likely won’t get the opportunity.. knowing myself. So I am saying it’s the latter” Deacon smiled, a bit too smug. Faking a childish sob as he rubbed his shoulder again. Maccready frowned at him, then swallowed and looked away. Turning around to check the dead bodies around for loot. Interesting.. Deacon thought. To get such a reaction from him just from that joke. This was certainly fit for some further testing.


	2. Chapter 2

“Let’s trade hats~” Maccready didn’t bother to even look up from his scope when Deacon spoke. “You changed again? You didn’t wear one a second ago…’ Maccready didn’t even sound surprised. The next moment however, Maccready felt his hat being removed and replaced by.. _What the hell did he put on my head-_   
“DEACON!!” Maccready yelled swatting Deacon’s wig from his head.. over the edge of the roof, where they were sitting. Deacon couldn’t help but laugh, even tho he lost his wig. “Don’t you ever dare put that sweaty filthy wig in my personal vicinity ever again!” He tried to grab his own hat back, which Deacon had put on his own head, of course. But to no avail, Deacon stood up and took a step away from him. “I think.. I am going to flee from your in depending rage-y hissy fit to get my hair back…” And gone he was.  
Maccready sighed, running his hand trough his hair. _This man is horrible, I wish I could ask my caps back, if I didn’t need them so bad._ He shuffled back onto his his stomach, resting his head against the stock as he peered trough the sniper’s scope again. Looking down the street, eventually he saw Deacon emerging into sight. He found his wig soon enough, picking it up and dusting it off theatrically before stuffing it in his pocket. He was about to walk back, but his attention seemed to be taken by something else, as he stopped in his tracks and turned around. Maccready looked down the street, seeing a rather lost Radscorpion turning around the corner. Sucking in his breath and pulling the trigger was enough to get the bug limp. Maccready internally patted himself on the shoulder for that.  
Quite some minutes later Deacon sat back down next to him, groaning and out of breath. “Stairs… and heights.. Why are we here again? Oh yes, secure the perimeter from any threats so the package can come trough tonight…” Maccready frowned. “I am the one doing all the work here, and I’m don’t even care about saving your bogus synth’s. I should get a raise from you. And my hat back” Deacon adjusted Mac’s hat, shoving it further down just to taunt him. “You know, for someone who herded a bunch of kids back in the day, and still has a weak spot for them. You are really inconsiderate against other human beings.” Maccready had to process that for a minute, he left his sniper and sat back, glaring at Deacon. Who sheepishly stared back at him. “Don’t you even remember the Mungo’s you stopped at your door? Bet must’ve been a lot of traffic then.” Maccready took Deacon’s talking as an opportunity to get his hat back, but Deacon leaned back just enough so he couldn’t reach it. “How on earth do you know about Little Lamplight?! I didn’t tell you.. did I?” Deacon sighed “Then again, I tend to change my face a lot. You probably wouldn’t remember me.”   
Maccready was thinking back, to when he was mayor of Little Lamplight back in DC. He indeed didn’t remember anyone the likes of him.. What was Deacon even doing in DC to begin with. “I don’t. Recall seeing you” _Wait hold on, this is Deacon we are talking to._ “Oh come on why was I even falling for that?! Quit lying damn- darn it!” Deacon crossed his arms. “I wonder who made you stop swearing, little mayor Maccready had a real foul mouth.. Gunners don’t have an anti swearing policy do they?” He asked him, but with the way he looked at him, Maccready knew he probably already knew or guessed the answer. “You are really creepy dude.. Why am I even interesting enough for you to get stalked by…” Maccready huffed, laying back down next to his rifle. Not even bothering to get his hat back anymore. “Actually, finding you in little Lamplight was coincidence, I was in DC all those years ago to secure a package arriving there. Seeing you pop up in the Commonwealth years later was also just that, coincidence. But it sure did raise my interest when your name went around as a gun for hire. Which is not exactly what I needed, but you don’t seem to have the balls to stab my back anytime soon. So here we are… enjoying this moment. Together~ On this rooftop”  
Maccready decided not to poke anywhere further this pit that is called Deacon, or snap at his obvious bait. He already came to understand his job is mainly intel, but not that he’s scary good at it. Maccready felt Deacon putting his hat back on his hat, giving him a soft pat on his head afterwards. “Not that I believe in coincidences.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rarely they both seem to agree on things. Like how it sucks to be stuck underground, hiding from a radstorm, in dark and damp subway station. Especially when said subway station turns out to be Triggermen infested, Maccready found out. When he wandered further into the station, because he lost a coin toss with Deacon who was going to scavenge the cigarette machines. He silently sneaked back to Deacon, who raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Hey. So Boss...” Maccready whispered, sitting down next to him. “I have good news and bad news.” Deacon sighed, resting his chin on his hand “Always is with you isn't it kid?” 

Maccready decided to ignore that bait. “The good news, I think theres enough nicotine down there to get us completely de-stressed for today.”

“There is a whole lot more needed than just nicotine to get me 'De-stressed'” Deacon interrupts, smirking.

“Does killing a group of triggermen also help with that? Somehow I picture you as a rather violent person beneath all that whiny bravado of yours” Maccready returns, because yes. He was getting rather frustrated from his boss constant jokes and lies.

Deacon looked actually a little thrown off by that comment. _Never counted him as the guy who has knowledge of human nature. Figures.._ ”So it's either waiting until they find us hiding in this corner, or we go back outside and turn into handsome ghouls like Hancock?”

The answer seemed pretty obvious, for some shitty reason. So here they are, both crouched up behind different pillars. They went trough the plan quickly, traveling for a couple of months has made them a quite precise killing team. Deacon gave a hand signal, before pulling the pin from a grenade and tossing it into the crowd of unsuspecting triggermen.   
Maccready used the sudden panic as a cover to line up his shot, taking out one more. Holding up 4 fingers to Deacon, as an estimated kill count. Deacon nodded in return, loading his shotgun and jumping from behind his cover. Gunning down two more henchmen before having to duck away from a molotov cocktail thrown at them.  
The fire obstructed the view and direct path between them for the time being. So Deacon had to push on trusting Maccready has him covered from behind. Tossing the shotgun aside to loot a machine gun from a dead triggerman, he stood up again as soon as he heard the remaining enemies questioning where he was. 

“Looking for me I guess? It would be real polite of you guys if you could line up for me!” Deacon said in mock panic, emptying the clip on the two men standing near the train. They where caught unaware by his sudden presence, but not the men who suddenly jumped out of the train. Shooting Deacon in his arm with a hand gun. As Deacon yelled and stumbled to the floor, so did the man assaulting him. Collapsing before him, blood gushing from the wound in his head.   
Deacon started to lose count how many times Maccready saved his ass. He felt a little bad for somehow not being able to return the favor. 

Deacon hissed as he jammed a stim in his arm, trying to ignore the pain to push on. _Whose idea was this actually? Take on a whole tea party of mafia with just the two of us.._ Deacon rushed into the train, ready to empty another clip he just reloaded. But.. This seemed to be it. _Just around ten? Are we really that lucky today?_ Deacon stepped back out, seeing the fire from the Molotov has already subsided. But Maccready was nowhere in sight. 

“LET ME GO, I WILL SEND YOU BACK TO HELL FOR THIS!!!!” That was definitely Maccready, and sadly he would never say that to himself. Panic took over his body as Deacon ran back to the lobby of the station. To find Maccready shot and beaten up, a mob pulling him up by his hair whilst holding him under gunpoint. “Hancock send ya?!” The man yelled. 

_Oh, he wants to talk? I can do this._ “Yes. Yes ofcourse he did.” Deacon answered calmly, aiming his weapon to the ground. Thank goodness for his shades in these situations, side eying Maccready he saw he was trying to reach the pouch on his leg. He just had to stall. “Something about you guys not showing in the proper 'ettendre' for that house warming party of his” 

The man looked puzzled, and pissed. He shrugged, obviously not knowing what he was talking about. Not that it mattered anymore, as Maccready pulled a 10 mm pistol from his pouch and shot the man in his leg. Making the enemy tumble over screaming, grabbing his leg in pain. Deacon marched over and shot the guy in the head, quickly pulling Maccready towards him. Dropping his weapon he wrapped his arms in a deadlock around him, pulling him tight, not thinking about what he was doing. He was rather relieved to say at the least.

It lasted around 5 seconds before it turned awkward, and Deacon let go of him. Followed by a silent stare between them for even more awkward seconds. “I make up what I thought earlier.” Deacon spoke to break the silence. “I rather have you save me, I rather not have my investment die on me.”

Maccready waved him off, shaking his head. “J-just. Give me a stim- I-I'm dying over here!” Deacon scrambled for his pack, quickly jabbing a stim in Maccready's leg. Looking up, Deacon saw Maccready wasn't much more in pain than he was blushing.

A whole lot of moments in pure agony, and bullet shrapnel pulling from wounds later. Deacon and Maccready sat by a little cooking station the Triggermen has set up for themselves. Maccready had decided the Stimpacks weren't enough and started to drink his pain away. Deacon commented on it, he tried. But Maccready seemed rather tense, even more than before this whole disastrous debacle of an idea. _Wonder what it could be~ Should I tease him about it.._ Deacon thought, feeling his pockets. “Oh hey, I had enough smokes for the both of us! Figures!” 

Maccready didn't even look at him whilst he rested his forehead not so gently onto his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be mushy and cute, I promise. First let Maccready intake something to get tipsy before I unleash that what is Deacon onto him.
> 
> Also look I improved the reading experience. Go me!


End file.
